Yesterday morning I picked up the newspaper outside my door and saw this: Woah, hold onto your brains! Zombie Crisis in the Vatican! Anyway, after I took it out of the wrapper, the full picture emerged. Don't things like this make you wonder if the people doing front-page layout are awake, asleep, or trying to make us spit our coffee all over the paper?
My lovebird Zip is 13 years old today, making him a teenager. It's hard to believe I've had this little ball of feathers in my life for 13 years.
For the first few weeks, Zip and his brother Zap just huddled in the bottom of their cage in a little clump. Soon they discovered their hearty little lungs, and I've been living with squawks, squeaks, and chirps ever since.
Zap passed away at about eight years old, after some type of illness that lingered for several months. He was a sweet bird too, but he had a habit of picking his tail and neck feathers that made him more vulnerable to germs. On the other hand, not having a tail gave him some advantages over his brother. He could hang upside down from the top of the cage like a bat!
Zip was mostly a hands-off pet until the last time we moved, November of last year. Now, he just can't get enough head-scratching. Every morning he cuddles up to the front corner of his cage, looking cute and pathetic, and makes l...
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